


Expectant

by c7a8t9



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Childbirth, Domestic, F/M, Future Fic, Post-Series, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-16 09:25:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4620138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/c7a8t9/pseuds/c7a8t9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Josh Lyman as a dad/Josh Lyman and all his dads.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Good News, Not Bad

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by some tags basicallylizziebennet put on a tumblr post.  
> Thanks to my beta readers, including thebreakfastgenie!!

He was pacing. He realized how ridiculous that was, but he couldn’t help himself. His mind was a fevered mess of worry and had been for over an hour, ever since he'd gone to her office and been told she wasn't there.

She had just barely gotten her key out of the lock and closed the door behind her, and he was upon her, hugging her hard.

“I didn’t think you’d be home this early…” she began.

He stepped back and dropped his arms, looking at the floor. “I stopped by your office to see if you wanted to get dinner but you weren’t there and your assistant said you’d gone to see your doctor. You didn’t answer your phone. Are you ok? What’s going on?” He lifted his gaze, searching her face. In his eyes she saw shadows of fear and grief and pain.

“I’m so sorry. I should have told you but I just wanted to slip out and get checked because I didn’t want anyone to think I was being silly if I was wrong… I should have told you and I should have called... I wanted this to be face-to-face.”

“Donna…” he whispered, voice broken.

“Oh, no, no, Josh, it’s okay, I’m so sorry I’m doing this all wrong and worrying you… I should have thought about how you’d...this is good news. It’s good news, not bad.”

“What?” Josh's thoughts all collided with each other at once and he had no time to straighten them out before Donna took his hand, looking at him almost shyly.

“I’m pregnant,” she said, then bit her lip, trying to conceal an expanding grin.

Josh blinked once, twice, then three times as his brain tried to adjust. He couldn’t think fast enough for words, so he just wrapped his arms around her and hugged with everything he had in him. He leaned in and kissed her deeply, slowly spinning them both in the entryway.

When they finally broke apart they were both a little dizzy, grinning like they’d never stop.

“So I take it you’re happy?” Donna asked. Josh still couldn’t speak, so he nodded. “And I am really sorry for scaring you like that,” she added, putting a hand on his cheek. Josh shook his head. “Are you going to find words at some point?” she teased.

“We’re going to have a baby,” he said, with clear excitement. “A baby!”

“Yes, we are,” Donna acknowledged calmly.

"A baby!"

“Babies are nice.”

“It’s going to be ours, we will be a...a family!”

“Even nicer,” she smiled, enjoying his inability to contain his joy.

“Is it...is it a boy or a girl?”

“Josh, it’s a ball of cells right now. They can’t tell from the pregnancy test...and even when they can we’re not finding out.”

“What?”

“As soon as you know you start putting all kinds of expectations on what the kid’s going to be like and people start talking about a boy being a ladies’ man and playing sports and girls loving princess and make-up and I don’t want to be saddling our child with stereotypes. We can’t plan out their life, it has to be theirs to live. We will love this baby no matter what, and we certainly won’t be limiting our child’s interests or personality based on antiquated ideas.”

Josh was dumbstruck for a moment, then he kissed her again. “You’re going to be such a good mother,” he whispered in her ear.

She started tearing up, and Josh felt his blood pressure spike.

“It’s...it’s ok. It's okay, dont cry,” he said hastily. “It’s been a long day. Are you ok? Come sit down.” He grabbed her hand and walked her over to the couch. “Here, deep breaths, you need ah, extra oxygen, right?”

This caused Donna to switch immediately from crying to laughing. “What are you talking about?”

Josh was bewildered. “I don’t know, you’re, uh, breathing for two right?”

“I think my normal air intake is adequate, Josh.”

“Well, ok, you know I haven’t read up on this. They don’t make briefing papers about this.”

“Actually, they kind of do…” Donna said, pulling out her phone. “I found a couple apps and websites that have pregnancy information, like week-by-week guides and forms to help you complete your birth plan, but it sounds like you need to read up even more than I do.”

“Uh, ok…”

“Relax, you don’t have to do anything tonight. Tonight we can just enjoy each other’s company and celebrate.”

“Yes, I’ll break out the champagne!”

“Josh…” Donna said in a questioning tone.

He had been halfway off the couch but collapsed back against it, almost hitting his head on the wall behind. “Oh my god. I forgot. Oh my god, I could have killed you!” he buried his face in his hands.

“That’s not quite how it works, fortunately, and I remembered. Don’t worry.” She patted him on the back.

“I...can you send me the names of those websites?”

“Josh, later. It can wait."

"Just send them to me, okay, I'll wait to read them," Josh pleaded.

Donna gave him an accommodating smile and tapped a few buttons on her phone quickly. "Are there still Chinese leftovers?” She asked absently.

“Yes, but, are you sure that’s…”

“You do know that I was already pregnant when we ate that this weekend, right? It’s fine, I’ll go heat it up.”

“No, no, let me, you just rest.”

As Josh got the food out and bustled around the kitchen, Donna told him from the couch about the great OBs her doctor had recommended. “There’s a bunch at the department at GW, that’s the hospital the practice is affiliated with, but I...I wanted to have other options so I asked and there’s one at Georgetown who she thinks is great, she’s an international leader in the field of maternal and child health.”

Josh came back with two steaming plates and a glass of milk for Donna. She scrunched her nose a little but drank it without complaint. “So...I need to let them know by tomorrow if I want to get in to see the doctor at Georgetown. What do you think?”

“Wait, why does it matter which hospital you see a doctor at?”

“I would deliver the baby at the same hospital and I guess I didn’t want...if we have to go in through the emergency room or...”

Josh closed his eyes for a moment and his shoulders fell as he leaned his elbows on his knees. Donna was right; if he never saw the inside of GW Hospital again, it would be too soon. But he didn’t want her worrying about him when she should be thinking about what was best for her. “GW is much closer to the White House,” he began.

“Only 10 minutes,” she countered. “And Georgetown is closer to here.”

“Whatever you think is the best choice,” he said.

“Georgetown it is,” she said. “I’ll let you know when the first doctor’s appointment is...if you want, I mean if you can’t come it’s…”

“No, it’s ok, I’ll talk to Sam and the President, let them know, and we’ll work…”

“Josh, we, we can’t tell people yet.”

“What do you mean?”

“All of the guides say to wait until at least 12 weeks to start telling people because before that there’s a very high risk of miscarriage or serious complication.”

“There...there is?” Josh’s whole body went cold.

“Well it’s not that high and the younger you are the better, so it’s a good thing you’re not the one having this baby.” Josh’s stomach twisted as he thought suddenly about what it meant to become a father at forty-five. How old would he be when his child was in high school? “And I’m healthy, and we had no problems conceiving,” she gave him a slightly salacious look. “But there is a chance, so to be safe, we wait. We can tell our immediate family members after the first OB appointment maybe.”

“O-okay” Josh stammered. He felt a pit open up in his gut, an empty, gnawing hole that somehow had physical weight as he started to think about all the terrible possibilities that now existed.

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine,” Donna said, rubbing a hand over his back. “We just have to keep this secret between us for a little bit. It’ll be fun. We can write each other notes with potential names in secret code and pass them back and forth.”

Josh pasted a smile on his face. “Yeah, it’ll be fine.”

She yawned. “Well, I’m going to start using the fool-proof excuse I have to go to bed early. You coming?”

“No…” Josh muttered distractedly, “I should finish up some...HR 2048...”

“Okay, well try to get some sleep,” Donna said, leaning over to kiss him. “I love you. I am so happy we get to do this together. I already can't wait to meet our baby." Josh couldn’t suppress his grin when she said the words “our baby”. He kissed her and watched her walk away towards the bedroom, somehow more beautiful than she had ever been. He wrenched his gaze away and reached for his laptop. He had a lot of learning to do if he was going to handle this.

\------------

“Josh? It’s 2 am, what are you still doing up?” Donna spoke sleepily from the doorway.

“Hey,” Josh said, head jerking up from his computer screen. “Are you ok? Do you need anything?”

“Just getting some water,” Donna held up the glass. “Come to bed.”

“Okay,” Josh heaved himself up off the couch.

Once they were in bed together, Donna quickly drifted back to sleep.

Josh lay wide awake with the million new potential disasters he had learned about that night running through his mind. Pre-eclampsia, gestational diabetes, birth defects, hyperemesis...The pit in his stomach grew heavier.

 

 


	2. Yizkor

The next day Josh was a wreck. It wasn't like he hasn't done his job on just as little sleep many times before, but today his mind was out of control. He would get wrapped up in a meeting or a memo for long enough to forget and then he'd see someone from the East Wing or someone would mention the First Lady or his thoughts would drift to Donna and his face would be plastered with an irrepressible grin. He couldn't quite believe it. It wasn't like they were trying very hard to avoid it, but they also weren't exactly planning on having kids right then. With their jobs? Forget it. But now that it was here and real, his own joy astonished him. He’d always liked kids, but had never thought the prospect of his own could make him this excited.

But then as quickly as the joy came it was shattered. There were countless things that could go very, very wrong: miscarriage, prematurity, placenta previa. Every little thing mattered enormously for a developing baby, if the websites and articles Josh was devouring had taught him anything. Just the day-to-day stress of Donna’s job was sure to be enough to affect the baby’s birth weight. He found himself flipping away from the summaries of new bills in committee in the House to check on the incidence of  congenital heart defects.

He tried to keep his attention away from articles about risks to the mother. He had lived through one medical catastrophe with Donna; he didn’t think he could survive another. But the facts slipped in there anyway: hemorrhage, infection, blood clots, obstructed labor.

If Josh could have one thing in the world at that moment, it would be a guarantee, in writing, of health and safety for Donna and the baby. Two things and he’d wish to jump ahead in time to after the birth.

“Josh,” his assistant Megan knocked on his door and jolted him from his thoughts. Josh clicked out of his browser quickly and whipped around in his chair.

“Yeah, what’s up?” he said, trying to seem casual.

“There’s a note in your calendar...I think it’s in your handwriting...but it just says, uh,” she squinted at the page “yizz-kore? There’s no time or place listed and I’ve been looking for the last hour and I don’t think there’s anyone in the federal government by that name.”

“Oh, it’s Yizkor, actually,” Josh replied without thinking. “But that’s...it’s nothing, it’s not a name. There’s no appointment.”  
“Ok,” Megan said, starting to turn away.

“That’s written on today?” Josh asked uncertainly, running a hand over his face.

“Yes, it’s written sort of diagonally over the 4:30-5:30pm hour. It’s 4:15 now,” she said. “And you don’t have anything else for the rest of the day.”

“Alright… thanks” Josh said. Megan turned and went back to her desk, relieved that she hadn’t screwed up Josh’s schedule.

Josh leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling. Yizkor. He had completely forgotten. He tried to remember when the last one had been, but he couldn’t remember if he’d done it...when would that have been? It was four times a year, he knew, all on major Jewish holidays... leave it to his people to mandate a prayer for the dead on festive occasions. His mother took on the responsibility of saying it for his sister; every time, every year. But the task of saying it for his father had been given to Josh. He had tried to fulfill his duties, but work, as always, got in the way. He’d said it on Air Force One at least once; he only really knew the very first sentence by heart, but he figured it was the spirit of the thing that counted most. It was easier to remember when Toby was around to remind him; he’d missed who knows how many in the last two years.

It was September, so it must have been Yom Kippur. He was pretty sure that was one of the days. He hadn’t noticed at all. Not that the Santos White House marked the Jewish High Holidays with a great deal of fanfare, but it should have at least popped up on his BlackBerry. That note in his paper calendar had to be months and months old, made with only the vaguest hope that he’d be able to attend a service and satisfy the full requirements of the ritual. And yet, it seemed as though he actually had the opportunity to do this, and the day after he’d discovered he would soon become a father himself.

He started to talk himself out of it, worry about being away from Donna, the work piled up on his desk that he hadn’t gotten to. But then he remembered the look on his father’s face the first time he said the prayer for his father, Josh’s grandfather.

Josh was pulling on his coat before he even knew what he was doing. On the way out, he stopped by Megan’s desk.

“I’m...I’m going out for a while. If Donna stops by or calls, put her through directly to my cell, even if she says not to bother, but otherwise hold my calls. I’ll be back in, ah, an hour or so.”

He didn’t even wait for a response.

Exiting the West Wing through the wrought iron gate, he walked quickly, blinking a little at the strangeness of seeing these buildings in daylight. There was a community center with a synagogue attached just a few blocks away from the White House; he’d been there a couple times with Toby when they’d needed to stay on a Friday night.

Entering, he took a yarmulke from the visitor’s bin in the entryway and attempted to fasten it to what was left of his hair. He slipped into a seat near the back; the service was already underway. The air inside the temple felt different, still. It was quiet, especially compared to the White House.

He remembered both more and less Hebrew than he had expected to.

When the time came for the Yizkor prayer, the congregants who had no one to pray for left the room, as was customary. Josh felt a familiar ache of envy in his chest as he watched the retreat of those who had never known close loss. After his sister had died, he had stayed with his parents for this prayer; he could barely remember the time when he could claim ranks with those lucky grief-less souls who exited.

As the rabbi began the prayer, Josh tried to read along, but found that he could keep up better by ear and memory. He muttered his way through the full prayer, hoping to feel some sense of connection or fulfillment or understanding, but reminding himself sternly that this wasn’t about him, or for him, or even necessarily for his father. It was about memory. About creating space for mourning. About the fact that his dad was still his dad, even in death. Josh tried not to think about a child of his one day completing this task for him, and tried even harder not to think about ever having to say Yizkor for his child, he thoughts about both anyway, the pit in his stomach turning ice cold as he did. The prayer concluded and a musical interlude began, rescuing him from his thoughts.

As the other congregants filed back in, Josh felt compelled to say something more. “I...I’m sorry I missed a couple years there, Dad,” he muttered under his breath. “I thought of you, you know, even if I didn’t say the prayer. Every day. You would’ve loved Santos--he’s just your kind of man. And Donna. You really would have loved her. I wish you’d been there when I was getting ready to propose… I could’ve used one of your pep talks. And… especially right now since I’m … I’m going to be a father.” This came out as a whisper, the first time he’d said the words out loud. “You would be so happy… I...I’m happy, but there’s just so much to worry about. I guess I wish I’d paid attention more when you were raising me because...you...well, you did a very good job and I wish I knew how you pulled it off, how you kept going even after… how you dealt with everything so well, even when things went wrong. I never got to ask you how you did it. I already… I have only known for twenty-four hours and I’m more nervous than I’ve been in years. I don’t know how you did it. I wish I did.” He felt the ache of missing his father more acutely than he ever had before, a pain beneath his solar plexus that complimented the pit in his stomach.

Soon after, the service ended and he shuffled his feet the whole way back to the White House, feeling both worse and better than before.

 


	3. Grandma Duties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the love everyone, keep it coming :)  
> Hope you like this one- a short chapter, but a sweet one.

His first official phone call was to his mother, as soon as they got home from their very first appointment with the OB, who had been wonderful and proclaimed both Donna and the baby to be in excellent health. Donna had gone to lie down, hoping to sleep off a bout of nausea, though not without first telling him, “Go ahead, call her, don’t wait on me for news this good.”

But Josh found himself listening carefully to her retreating footsteps, straining to hear the thud of each shoe hitting the floor and the quiet creak of the mattress as she got in bed, resisting the urge to go check on her, though she’d been gone only thirty seconds.

He picked up the phone and dialed.

“Rachel Lyman”

“Hi, mom”

“Joshua! How are you?”

“I’m…” he paused, not at all sure how to describe his current emotional state. “Listen mom, I’ve got some news…”

“Is everything alright?” The smile that had been plastered on Josh’s face for the past three days faltered a little. It hurt to know that his mother jumped so quickly to thinking something was wrong, though he had to admit to harboring a bit of that tendency himself.

“Mom,” he said, “everything’s fine. Great, actually. So I know your birthday is coming up...and I was thinking...what’s the one thing you’ve always wanted that I’ve never been able to give you?”

“Oh, Joshua, you don’t have to go to any…” she began, then realized what he was hinting at “Joshua!! Oh, Joshua, really?”

The smile was back in full force. “Yes, mom, if you can bear to wait ‘til June, you will be a grandmother.”

“Oh my gracious, oh Joshua, this is such wonderful news! Mazel tov to you and Donna. How is she? When did you find out?”

“She’s fine, a little nauseous at the moment, trying to take a nap. We just got back from the first doctor’s appointment. She found out last week. You’re the first person to know. Donna’s parents are next. We’ll probably wait a bit to tell anyone else, just to be on the, uh, safe side.”

“Oh, darling, this is so, so wonderful. I’m so happy for you. Oh, the joys of being a parent...it’s unlike anything you can imagine. How are you feeling?”

“Thanks, mom. Uh, I was a little bit surprised, I confess, and I’m trying not to do the math on how old I’ll be when the kid graduates, but this is… this is something we both really wanted. We can’t look at each other without smiling, which makes meetings at work sort of difficult… but, yeah, I’d say I’m overjoyed.”

And he was. But, the pit in his stomach from the night Donna told him the news was still there, and the facts and figures from the websites he was reading were never far from his mind.

“Well, that’s exactly how it should be,” his mother continued, “I mean, not to say that you might not feel overwhelmed or a bit, hm, daunted, in the coming months and years... I tell you, I didn’t feel at all up to the task when your sister came along but I loved her so much from the moment I knew she existed.”

The pit in Josh’s stomach twisted.

“I mean, I do, uh, even now I guess…” Josh admitted. “You know, feel, um, daunted. How...when does that go away?”

“Well, dear, the truth is that there is a level of worry associated with parenthood that is different than any other kind. You’ll get less nervous about what you have to do, you learn. It gets easier, to know what to do for your child and how to help them and care for them and guide them. But I suppose since everything is new each time, with each child, that never quite goes away.”

“Oh,” Josh said.

“Oh, but dear, the joy is unimaginable. And that’s all you have to do, keep the joy and the love at the center.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Josh said, with a practiced sheen of enthusiasm over his voice. “I should go check on Donna, but we will talk to you soon. I love you.”

“Tell Donna congratulations from me and that I will be getting started on my grandma duties right away; so don’t buy anything yet. I am so happy for you two. I love you, Joshua.”

“Love you too, mom, bye.”

“Goodbye, dear.”

Josh couldn’t help but smile at the thought of his mother meeting her first grandchild. After everything being a mother had cost her, she deserved at least this much.


	4. Memorial Mass

“We really don’t have to go,” Josh said through the bathroom door. “I think everyone would understand.”

“Josh, we’re going,” Donna insisted. Josh heard her retching into the toilet again and he momentarily had to remind himself to breathe. She had been sick all morning, but he knew she wouldn’t miss Leo’s Memorial Mass. He would have been just as happy to skip it, but not for this reason. He felt helpless, guilty, and unsure of what to do.

Donna opened the door and they were suddenly face-to-face. He was already in his good black suit, the one that, as Donna put it, “actually fit”. She was still in her pajamas, hair pulled back hastily, looking at him with tired eyes.

“I really wish my body would hurry up and learn that this is a human baby, not some kind of parasite or poison,” she lamented.

“I’m sorry,” Josh said. “This is all my fault.”

“Takes two to tango, buddy. But I am definitely taking one for the team here, and I appreciate that you recognize that. You can make it up to me in diapers in a few months,” she gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “I think I’m ok now, just give me a minute to get ready.”

Five minutes later she emerged looking like her usual flawless self, black dress just barely straining against her slightly swollen stomach.

“What? Is this ok? You can’t tell, can you?” Donna asked nervously.

“You look amazing,” Josh said breathlessly, staring at her.

“Pull yourself together, Josh, we’re going to church,” she chided him.

 ---------------

As the final musical selection in the service began, Donna grabbed Josh’s arm “Bathroom,” she whispered through clenched teeth. He shifted in his seat to let her out of the pew and she walked, quick but poised, down the aisle and towards the restrooms at the back of the sanctuary. They had found seats near the back at her urging, so no one besides Josh even noticed her exit.

The music ended and the priest recited the final prayer and dismissed the congregation. Everyone else slowly left, exchanging pleasantries, and shaking hands with the priest by the door on the way out. Donna still hadn’t returned, so Josh quickly found himself alone in the sanctuary.

Churches had always made Josh feel uncomfortable and out of place. But surrounded by pictures of his former boss and mentor, he felt even more conspicuous, like he was being doubly watched.

He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and walked up to the front of the sanctuary, where photos of Leo had been placed on an easel near the altar. Most of them showed him in his much younger days, but the photo taken just after the convention announcement was there. Josh had a moment of deja vu, recalling how he stared at that photo mere hours after Leo’s death, and he suddenly found himself talking to it yet again.

“It still feels like it should be you in that office, boss. But you’ll be surprised to hear I haven’t burned down the whole country yet. Most of that is thanks to what I learned from watching you. I...I wish I could just walk over to the OEOB and see you. Baker’s doing fine, less difficult to manage than Hoynes and a lot smarter than Bingo Bob, but… man, when I think about what we could be getting done with you in that chair…” he sniffed loudly, glanced around himself, then continued.

“It’d make me feel a lot better about the fact that I’m going to have to… step back, I guess, since, well, since there’s going to be a baby. Mine. Well, Donna’s and mine.. She’s currently vomiting for about the fiftieth time today so I can’t not acknowledge her. She’s… you knew, I think, even though I didn’t, when you told me to go to Germany. I… I’m so lucky. We’re… it’s good. It is so good. I’m… I want to do this, and with her especially, but it’s… I thought I was scared the first time I got called into the Situation Room but this...it’s a whole other level.

I know you’d tell me I’ll be fine. But I wish… I wish you could jump down into this hole with me.”

“Josh?”

Josh whipped around. Donna was calling to him from halfway down the aisle. He sped-walked to her “You alright?” he asked. She shrugged. He wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. Do you need something to drink? You should replace the fluids you’ve lost. We could go get something to eat too--maybe at that cafe by--”

“Can we just go home?”

“Of course, of course,” he shifted his arm to around her shoulder and they started walking out together.

“It was a lovely service,” Donna murmured.

“Mmhm,” Josh agreed.

“I miss him,” Donna continued, hesitating. “It’s...I mean this baby is going to have more honorary grandparents than any child needs, but… I just feel like we’re missing out on having Leo as one of them.” Josh couldn’t speak. He just squeezed her shoulder and sniffed deeply.

“He’d be really proud of you for this too, Josh,” she added, leaning her head into his chest.

“Both of us,” Josh managed to choke out, sniffing again. Donna smiled and squeezed the hand Josh had draped over her shoulder.

 

 


	5. They Don't Need Me to Be Their President

Today had to be the day.

It was a light day in the White House, at least so far. Congress was on its winter break, and it wasn’t an election year, so there wasn’t anything they needed to push through. And Donna was worried she wouldn’t be able to hide her stomach soon, so she planned to tell Helen that day. Which meant Josh had no choice. It had to be today, because if Helen broke the news to the President instead of him...

There was a part of him that desperately wanted to just let that happen, to absolve himself of the duty and let the consequences be what they may. But no, he couldn't do that to Donna, or to the President. He had promised.

It was an occupational hazard Josh had never considered: his job meant he had to tell the leader of the free world that he'd, you know,  _planted his seed._  Not to mention that he would be losing the Chiefs of Staff in both Wings of the White House, at least for a short period of time. Josh usually knew his way around words, but he had no idea how he was going to handle this one.

He waited as everyone else left after Senior Staff.

"Uh, sir, do you have a moment?"

Santos seemed puzzled. "You're kind of in charge of that, aren't you?" He joked.

"Yes, well, ah, this is about a personal matter, and it may...it will eventually have an effect on staffing in the West Wing, and um, the East too..." He trailed off.

Santos looked confused. "Josh, what's going on?"

"Well, sir, as you know, I'm married, uh, you know Donna Moss of course..."

"Josh, she worked for us on the campaign, she's my wife's Chief of Staff, and yes, I know she's your wife, I seem to remember a ceremony with a giant canopy... Is something wrong?" Santos suddenly seemed concerned.

"No, no," Josh said hurriedly. "I mean, I hope... Uh she's, she's... um, well we, we're... Going to have a baby. In June. Sorry."

Matt Santos' face broke into a broad grin. "That's great, Josh. Congratulations! I assume my wife has heard? June? You've been hiding this for a while, huh?"

"We didn't want to interfere with the agenda, sir... And uh, Donna was going to tell your-- Mrs. Santos, uh, first thing this morning. We both thought it would be best for each of you to hear it from..."

"Oh of course, of course," Santos said breezily. "And don't you worry about our agenda, family comes first. We will have to talk about time off for both of you. For anything else I'd be upset about losing you but..."

"I am indeed sorry, sir, for the inconvenience and we will try to minimize the time away and any effect this might have on the administration. I promise I will prioritize the critical work we are doing here. We’re looking carefully at full-time childcare options and I won’t plan to take any formal leave..."

"Josh, I’ll have none of that nonsense," Santos pointed to the chair next to his desk. "Sit down." Josh sat. "Now, look. I am the President of the United States, correct?"

"Yes, sir"

"Three hundred million Americans all call me their President, and in this job, I answer to them. And it is the great honor of my life to be called Mr. President. But I have another job, where I answer to only two people. There are only two people in the whole world who can call me "dad". But it is the greatest joy and biggest responsibility of my life. I'm their President too, and I try to do right by them with every decision I make in here, but they don't really need me to be their President. They need me to be their dad. You understand?" Josh nodded. "Good. So I'll hear no more apologies and we will figure out a way to give you all the time you need. In a few years we'll be done here, and you won't be answering to me, or to Congress, or to the American people anymore. But in two, three decades, you will still be answering to that child when they ask "What was I like as a baby?" And you had better have an answer. That's an order."

"Yes, sir," Josh was a bit bewildered. This was not what he had been expecting.

"Good," Santos nodded. "And if you need any advice, don't hesitate. Please pass my congratulations on to Donna as well. This is a wonderful time for you. An incredible blessing."

"Yes, thank you very much, sir," Josh replied automatically. Despite what he was told he did hesitate for a second before saying, "Sir, can I ask... When it was your first... I just keep reading all these things that can go... I worry... How did you deal with..."

"With being afraid?" Santos smiled knowingly. Josh nodded gratefully. “Oh, man,” Santos chuckled. “I remember how terrified I was when Helen told me she was expecting Peter. We were still living in this tiny apartment in Houston, and I had never, you know, in my family the women took care of the babies, passed them around at family gatherings, they wouldn’t have trusted me to even hold them. But Helen was amazing. And somehow, I don’t know, the first time I held my little boy...it all just clicked. I mean, I made my fair share of mistakes. The first time Helen left me alone with him, she gave me rice cereal for his dinner, and I made a full, adult sized bowl. He ate the whole thing! I don’t know where he put it, his stomach was the size of a walnut. But man, I paid for it in his diapers for the next week…” he trailed off smiling.

As if on cue, Ronna’s voice buzzed through the intercom “Mr. President, Superman is here to see you!” and two seconds later Peter came bursting through the door in his costume. “Faster than a speeding bullet!” he yelled, jumping up onto one of the Oval Office’s couches.

“Peter!” Santos spoke sharply “What did we say about the furniture in the White House?!”

Peter hopped down, looking slightly deflated. “Come here, Mr. Superman,” Santos said, softening. He lifted Peter in his arms to “fly” him around the office. Peter giggled wildly and Josh saw a look of sheer joy on the face of both father and son. After two circuits of the Oval, Santos lowered the boy to the floor, kissing his head on the way down. “Alright, now even superheroes have to go to school, come on, go get ready.” Peter went scampering out of the Oval, and Santos gave Josh a meaningful look. “It’s an old cliche you know, that being a parent is having a piece of your heart living outside your own body, but the love is really that strong. You get to see them grow, from a tiny infant you can hold on your arm, into a vibrant person all their own. You’re there, every day, the most important part of each other's lives.

You almost get used to that little piece of you running around, but it never feels quite right until the pieces come back to you, when you can hold them close. And when that happens, it’s not even that you feel whole. It’s more than that. The love is more than that.”

Josh nodded, but he still didn’t think he understood. 

     

 


	6. Being the Dad is the Best Job

“Joshua Lyman and Donnatella Moss!” Jed Bartlet’s voice fake-roared out of the answering machine. “You are expecting a child and I, the former President of these United States, had to hear this blessed news from Margaret?!?!” Josh couldn’t help but chuckle listening to his former boss’ feigned anger.

Slightly muffled in the background could be heard the long-suffering voice of Abbey Bartlet intoning, "Jed, give them a break. He means to say congratulations," she continued, voice coming through more clearly.

"Yes, well, many congratulations to you both," Jed continued, voice much softer. "I hope I'm at least on the list to receive a birth announcement, and I could make an excellent case for the position of honorary grandfather if given the opportunity to make my plea."

"Jed!" Abbey reprimanded.

"Alright, alright," he muttered. "Josh, Donna, I can't tell you how happy I am for you both. Blessings on your house and family and mazel tov! I know you will both be such wonderful parents." The pride was evident in his voice. "Abbey sends her love as well. Call us soon, and we’ll be expecting you in Manchester at some point this summer, the whole family."

As the answering machine sounded its beep, Josh, still chuckling, leaned over to kiss Donna, but she was frozen with a hand to her mouth looking stricken.

"Are you ok?" Josh asked, his pulse quickening.

"I can't believe we forgot to call President Bartlet!" She exclaimed.

"It's ok," Josh assured her, exhaling with relief. "He was just giving us a hard time. We only started telling people a couple weeks ago."

"But after everything he's done for us and how kind he's always been and, oh, Josh this baby wouldn't even exist without him!" Donna babbled, starting to cry. "We only met because of him and I can't even imagine... He should be the grandfather, we should go visit them before..."

"Donna, Donna," Josh soothed, wrapping her in his arms. "We can do whatever you'd like in terms of visits and honorary grandparents, but please don't be worried about Pres-- Jed. He really wasn't angry, I promise you. I know the man pretty well, he was just joking. He knows we appreciate him. He knows how thankful we are that we met on his campaign. Don't worry about that."

"Okay," Donna sighed. "But we need to call them back right this minute."

"Okay," Josh said. Donna picked up the phone and dialed quickly, then put it on speakerphone.

“Bartlet residence, Abbey speaking.”

“Mrs. Bartlet, ma’am, it’s uh, Donna Moss and Josh…”

“Donna! Congratulations! I tell you, Jed and I were just so delighted to hear your wonderful news! Jed! Come here, Donna’s on the phone.”

“Donna!” Jed exclaimed a moment later “How lovely to hear from you!”

“Josh is here too, Mr. President, and we’re...we’re so sorry we didn’t call you, it’s unconscionable, it’s just been such a busy...and I’m sorry we’re calling you kind of late, we just got your message and we had to…”

“Donna, do not give it a second thought,” Abbey insisted. “My husband forgets that he can’t go around acting like he’s the leader of the free world anymore. You’re both very busy, we know, and we’re happy for you regardless.”

“Oh, thank you Dr. Bartlet,” Donna said “I hope you know it wasn’t an intentional oversight. We’re both so grateful to you and President Bartlet. I mean… none of this would have happened without…”

“Oh, don’t let him hear you say that,” Abbey responded. “His head’s almost shrunk back down to size now. And I know it wasn’t on purpose, you have enough to be worrying about.” Josh gulped involuntarily at the sound of those words. “How are you feeling? Who’s your doctor?”

“Oh, I’m alright, you know, the standard nausea and fatigue, but nothing unmanageable. We’re seeing Dr. Barber at Georgetown. We thought about GW but we, uh, considering…” Donna trailed off. Josh scrunched his eyes shut, tilting his head up to the ceiling.

“You wouldn't want these joyous memories to be disturbed by any bad ones, of course," Abbey's voice was understanding. "And Dr. Barber is wonderful, I met her several times at events for maternal-child health initiatives.You'll be in very good hands."

"She seems excellent from our first few appointments," Donna agreed.

After a few minutes of questions about nursery color schemes, childbirth and breastfeeding classes, Jed's voice broke in again.

"Well when do I get to talk to the father-to-be?" He asked. "I have very important wisdom to impart you know."

"Yes, Jed," Abbey said dismissively as she resumed her questions for Donna. Josh was trying to listen but he got distracted just watching Donna talking animatedly into the phone, gesturing with her hands as she talked, and unconsciously resting one on her newly emerged baby bump while she listened to Abbey.

Just a moment later, Donna was pressing the phone into Josh's hand, smiling. "The President is insisting on imparting his wisdom. I'm going to get ready for bed. Don't let him keep you up too late." Josh flashed back to lectures about National Parks and groaned internally but accepted the phone.

"Hello, sir,"

"Josh I'll have no more of this "sir" business. We're both fathers now; you're in the club "

"There's a club?"

"Oh yes, we have a secret handshake and everything. The only dues are diaper changes and giving up a peaceful night's sleep from the birth until the kid is married. And sometimes, even then..."

Josh groaned out loud. "I can't say my sleep has been too peaceful recently either..."

"Well you'll be used to it, then" Bartlet said brightly.

"I suppose..."

“Come now, Josh, don’t be glum,” Bartlet encouraged. “Can I let you in on a little secret? Being the dad is the best job. Don’t tell Abbey, or for that matter Donna, that I said this, but in my house, and I suspect in yours, dad is the one with the treats who teaches you how to do multiplication tables and play chess and ride a bike.”

“Not so much in the newborn stage…”

“Well, peekaboo and blowing raspberries works just as well. But the point is, dad is the one with all the fun and discovery. Not that it doesn’t come with some responsibilities. It is your obligation as a member of the sacred brotherhood of fathers to play with your child and toss them about in a manner that makes their mother incredibly nervous, understand?”

Josh couldn’t help but smile as he remembered roughhousing with his own dad and his mother’s frantic admonishments to be careful. “Alright, I will,” he said with sincerity.

“Good. And if mom goes on the warpath about the dangers of sugar and high fructose corn syrup, you will be the one to supply secret stashes of candy and negotiate trips for ice cream. And when they come to you with questions, you will do your best to answer them. And you will make sure they do not leave your home without knowing how to change a tire, tie a few good knots, and write a thank-you note. Can you do all that?”

“Uh, I will do my best.”

“There you go, my boy. You’ll be fine. The first few years, just read as many stories as possible, steal as many kisses as possible and do as much crawling on the floor with them as you can. It goes by way too fast. Pretty soon they’re off studying French literature and DNA and marrying and having children of their own.”

“Well right now we’re just working on 10 fingers and 10 toes.”

“Eh, that’s all overrated; Zoey has 11 toes, hasn’t stopped her.”

Josh was aghast. “Sir, I’m so sorry…”

“Oh nonsense, Josh. It doesn’t make a bit of difference. Every kid has their challenges and differences, there’s no sense trying to expect perfection. Doesn’t have to change how you think about parenting, just remember lots of hugs and ice cream. Or high-fives and sorbet, as the case may be.”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Of course, Josh. And I meant what I said about being an honorary grandfather. But only honorary. I know I can never replace your father, I wouldn’t dream of trying."

“Thank you, Mr. Pres--, er. Thank you.”

“Anytime, Mr. Dad.”

 

 


	7. Bad Baseball is Bad Baseball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the hits and kudos and comments (especially comments, comments are my lifeblood) :)

“Hello?”

Josh hadn’t been thinking when he dialed the phone. He’d just picked it up and called Toby’s number. He was alone in his office on a Tuesday night, a bottle of Scotch, half a dozen stacks of paper, and an ultrasound print-out laid out on the desk in front of him.

He wasn’t even sure why he had called. He was a little drunk and a lot afraid and he had forgotten that he didn’t have Toby to talk to anymore, or maybe wished he still had him to talk to.

“Hello?!”

“Hi, Toby, it’s Josh Lyman from…”

“Josh, I still recognize your voice"

“Right, so how’s, uh, things?”

“What? What things?”

“Um… How ‘bout those Yankees?”

“Josh, did you need something?

“Um, no just wanted to ah, catch up, I guess?”

“I’m teaching, Andy’s still in Congress, Huck and Molly are on the same baseball team and if we could combine her throwing and his hitting they’d be golden, and you guys need to shore up support for HR 2048 or you’re sunk. Good catching up.”

“That all sounds… great. Baseball, huh? What’s it like watching your kids play...uh play ball like that?”

“Well this is the first year the children pitch to each other but they have a mercy rule so it’s like watching five runs get walked in every half inning until you have lost all sense of time and space.”

“That sounds like… such a... joy.”

“It’s really more of a mitzvah.”

“But… isn’t it… you know, it’s your kids.”

“Bad baseball is bad baseball, Josh.”

“But you go,”

“Well, yeah, of course, it’s my kids.”

“But you said…”

Toby sighed. “The fact that it’s my kids doesn’t change anything about the situation, it just makes me… I’m a hell of a lot more willing to sit through three hours of excruciating baseball because it’s them on the field and because after they coming running over and say “Did you see us, Dad?” and....and I can say yes.

I’m a lot more patient with them than I ever was with anything else, and it’s easier to be patient than with anything else. If you’d asked me before I would’ve said no way could I do that, that much patience, that much care, that much...love. I didn’t believe Leo when he said I could, said it was a… a mortal lock. But Leo… Leo was right. And… and if he could, I’m sure he’d… well, he’d say the same thing to you.” Josh hadn’t ever actually told Toby why he was calling. Come to think of it, he didn’t think he’d told him about the baby at all.

“How did you know?”

“Capitol Beat is running a weekly “baby bump” segment now, just so we’re all clear on the state of journalism in this country…”

“Toby, I…” Josh tried to find the right words.

“Did you get to hear the heartbeat yet?”

“Yeah,”

“And see the head?”

“Yeah,”

“That’s all you need. Just, if you’re not sure, think about the moment you first saw that and it’ll, it’ll be fine.”

“Alright,” Josh replied. The conversation halted for a moment. “Toby?”

“Yeah?”

“I get it,” Josh sighed. “Why you wanted Bartlet to use the twenty-fifth. My kid’s not even born and I get it.”

“I know,” Toby replied.

Neither of them knew what to say after that.

“Well, ah, I should probably,”

“Yeah, of course,”

“Uh, bye,”

“Bye,”

Josh hung up the phone and rubbed a hand over his face. He picked up the ultrasound photo. It was as detailed as they came, and it was their fifth one so far, but what was stuck in Josh’s mind wasn’t the photo or any of the ones before it, or even the sound of the heartbeat. It was the day a month previous when he’d felt the baby kick for the first time. That little kick, no more than a flutter, had radiated through his body like it was delivered by an NFL placekicker. Joy and terror punched him simultaneously in the gut and when he looked up at Donna, there were tears in his eyes.

It was that moment, more than anything else, that had driven home that this was real.   


	8. Don't Stew With This All Night

The illuminated numbers of the alarm clock read 2:12 AM. Donna stared at them, willing them forward. Five minutes ago, just as she was getting back into bed after peeing for the twentieth time that night, she felt a twinge low in her belly. It wasn’t much, just a mild cramp, and it subsided in less than a minute.

She told herself that the worst case scenario was that she was in labor, and given that she was officially 38 weeks as of a couple hours ago, that was not actually a worst case scenario, that was just going into labor slightly early. Or possibly not early at all, depending on how accurate her due date calculation was.

But the possibility of labor made her undeniably nervous. And since she’d never done this before, she had no idea how to tell what was labor and what wasn’t. She figured if she went 10 minutes without feeling anything else, she was probably in the clear, so she waited, trying to relax, but she didn’t know how to find a comfortable position in bed.

What she knew for sure at that moment, was that her back hurt. It was right in the vicinity of her kidneys and Donna had a sudden flash of worry: what if there was some horrible complication and her kidneys were shutting down? She tried to tell herself she was being silly, that she shouldn’t watch Grey’s Anatomy right before bed, but the thoughts persisted. She felt wide awake. Bracing one arm against the bed, she slowly rolled herself over, trying to settle into a comfortable position on her side. She was now facing Josh’s back and she started to reach out a hand to tap his shoulder, then she stopped herself. He had climbed into bed less than two hours ago, and if she woke him and told him what was happening, he would panic. She knew Josh, she got him. She understood that he was delighted about the baby, but also somewhat apprehensive. He’d been extraordinarily jumpy throughout her whole pregnancy and she hoped the baby’s arrival would calm his nerves but she knew better than to count on it.

She felt the pain in her back again, and with it came a flood of fear. Suddenly the room was much too dark and she felt completely alone. She wanted so much to wake him up, to have someone with her. She could tell Josh in such a way that it wouldn’t freak him out, she told herself. She could even just say her back was sore and they could cuddle together. She reached her hand out.

Josh sat bolt upright in bed. Donna jerked her hand back; she hadn’t even touched him. He held the covers in a death grip, staring around with wide but unseeing eyes.

Donna slowly pushed herself up to sit. “Josh, Josh, JOSH!” she repeated, but he didn’t even acknowledge her. He had nightmares from time to time, but this one seemed different. His breathing was heavy, and he seemed confused by his surroundings.

“JOSH!!” Donna raised her voice, putting one hand on his arm, and the other on his face. When her voice wasn’t enough, touch usually helped.

“DONNA!!”

“JOSH, I’m right here!” she said loud and slow. “I’m right here, it’s ok,” she grabbed his hand and placed it on her chest so he could feel her heart beating. “I’m ok,” she said again. He had stopped staring about and finally focused his gaze on her face.

“Donna, are you ok? Where are you hurt? What happened to--”

“Josh, I’m fine, you were dreaming.”

“We have to get you help--”

“Josh, listen!” she insisted. “Take a breath. You had a bad dream, ok? No one is hurt. I’m fine, look, look at me. You’re ok, you’re safe.” He quieted.

“You didn’t--”

“Nothing happened to me, or to the baby, or to you, we were asleep right here in our bed.”

“Ok, yeah,” Josh said, moving his hands to wipe sleep out of his eyes. “Sorry, I--”

“It’s ok,” Donna soothed, placing a hand on his chest, just above his racing heart. “Everything’s fine.”

“I’m sorry I woke you up. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Donna said a little too quickly. “And I felt the baby moving just a little while ago. Everyone is ok.”

“It was just a dream,” he said. “I know everything’s fine.” He insisted a bit too forcefully.

“What happened? What were you dreaming about?”

“Oh...I...I don’t remember,” Josh said, clearly lying.

“Josh, you can tell me,” Donna insisted. “Don’t just stew with this all night.”

“I don’t… you know, it was just… something...I don’t know. I can’t remember the details. It wasn’t that bad, don’t worry about me. I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Donna gave him a long look and he studiously avoided her gaze, but she was tired and it didn’t seem worth it to force it out of him.

“Well, I guess we should sleep then,” she said, laying herself back down. He rolled over on his side, away from her.

The clock now read 2:21 AM. It had been more than ten minutes with no more cramps. But Donna lay awake for much longer, tense and uneasy now for a whole different reason.


	9. I Can't Do This Alone

This time it was Donna pacing by the door and waiting for him when he got home.

“Hey,” Josh said, hanging up his coat. “You okay? How was your day?”

“Are we going to talk about what happened last night?”

“What?” Josh asked. Donna just stared him down. “Oh, you know, just a bad dream,” Josh remarked lightly as he settled on the couch. Donna didn’t join him.

“Just a bad dream from which you woke up screaming my name, unsure of your surroundings, with your breathing unsteady, convinced something was wrong with me or the baby.”

“Well, it’s, you know, just a bit of stress. We’re at the ‘any day now’ point, right?” Josh tried to keep his tone light.

“This isn’t new Josh. You panicked at every pothole we drove over for the whole first trimester. You brought four pages of questions I didn’t even know about to the first OB appointment. You buried yourself in those horrible websites that just talk about all the things that could ever possibly go wrong, and I still see you checking them. I’d be surprised if you didn’t hurt yourself from how hard you were gripping the table in birth class. I once heard you muttering a prayer in the OB’s office _in Hebrew_. I catch you lost in your thoughts while I’m talking at least twice a day, and your first question when I jolt you out of it is always “Is something wrong?” You think I don’t notice all the looks of sheer terror that you force a smile over, but I do. You’re walking on eggshells around me; it’s like you’re scared to breathe in my direction at this point. I booked you an appointment. With Stanley Keyworth. On Monday. You’re going.” she said, turning away towards the kitchen.

“Donna!” he protested.

“What?” she asked, voice icy.

“Why… am I not supposed to be showing concern? I’m just trying to be cautious, trying to protect you and the baby.”

“This isn’t about that.”

“Then what is it about?”

“You didn’t talk to me! I had some of those same questions but we should have asked them together. I could have told you those websites don’t tell you how rare most of the complications are. We could have talked about this. But you’ve insisted on trying to keep this all bottled up to yourself. Josh, I can’t do this alone,” Donna replied firmly.

“What are you talking about? You’re not alone, I’ve been to every appointment, we did the nursery, we took the classes…” Josh rebutted. Donna rounded on him, a flash of anger in her eyes.

“But you’re not really here Josh, you’re lost in whatever pit of fear and despair you’ve created in your head. I can see it in your eyes. And I can’t do that. This is going to be hard at points, and exhausting. And I can’t be spending time worrying that I’m worrying you. I’m due in two weeks. I will go into labor, and it will probably hurt a little bit. And some things might go wrong, and I’m going to need you to be there for me, not crumpled on the floor because the fear has taken over. There is going to be a human life completely dependent on me for sustenance, and safety, and I need a partner in that, not another person depending on me.”

“How could you think I won’t be there for you?”

“It’s not about whether you will be or not Josh, it’s about whether I feel like you can be, whether I feel like I can ask things of you, talk to you about what I’m nervous about.”

“Why would you ever think you can’t?”

“Because sometimes I actually can’t, Josh! Last night? I was awake before you woke up. I got up to pee and then I had a little cramp. And I was worried it might be labor but I wasn’t sure how to tell, and then my back kind of hurt and I got myself all scared that something was wrong even though that was silly and I wanted to wake you up and talk to you and have you comfort me but then I hesitated. I stopped myself, because I knew it would freak you out and I didn’t want to do that to you and I didn’t need to be talking you down while I was kind of freaking out. And I had almost talked myself into waking you anyway when you actually lost it. You know it took me a full minute to convince you that you had been dreaming, and that everyone was ok? What happened in the dream, Josh? You couldn’t, or you wouldn’t, tell me.”

Josh was stonily silent. She was right. But he couldn’t tell her the dream. He couldn’t get the words out, and he never wanted to; she should be spared that, at least.

“Josh, you can tell me, none of it actually happened, and none of it is going to.”

Josh still said nothing, but Donna saw tears forming. He had hunched deeply over his knees and she saw his hand move to grip the left side of his chest, right where she knew there was a small, round, slightly puckered scar. Her breath caught as she realized the horrors that dream must have contained for him.

“You can’t know that,” he whispered. “Anything could happen.”

Donna softened and took a step towards him. “Josh… that’s true, but you know most things won’t. And most of the things that will happen, we can handle.”

“Aren’t...aren’t you scared at all?” he asked, incredulous.

“I mean, a little bit, sure. I know it’s going to be hard at times, and we won’t get a lot of sleep, and we might not always know the exact right thing to do. Labor won’t be fun, but if the whole of the human species has come into the world this way, it will probably be alright. And there will probably be some scrapes and failures and moments when we are too harsh or too lenient, and maybe even some trips to the ER. But we will figure it out. And we will get through it, and kids are capable of forgiveness and resilience and recovery, even from some pretty bad stuff, just so long as they know they are loved and protected as best as we know how. If we listen, and always focus on love and respect and clear and reasonable boundaries, we can get through pretty much anything,” Donna took a deep breath, knowing that she had to broach the fear she was sure was at the top of Josh’s mind,“and if, if, in the unlikely event that the worst-case scenario comes to pass and... we outlive this child, it will be awful. Beyond comprehension. But it will be survivable. You know that. And I don’t think I could ever regret having this baby, making a family with you, no matter the length of time we get together.”

“You’re...you’re ready.”

“I hope so.”

“I’m not…”

“It’s ok.”

“No, it’s not...it’s not. I’ll go. To the appointment with Stanley, I’ll go. I’m sorry.” He said, dejected. He had failed. He had failed her, failed the baby.

“Josh, it’s...I know it’s not...it’s not really your fault.” Donna said softly. “Come here,” she said, sitting on the couch and taking his hand. She placed both their hands right on the top of her stomach so Josh could feel the baby’s strong kicks. “See how high up the feet are? This is a perfect position to be in at this stage. Our baby is so ready to meet us, and there are so many hugs and kisses and smiles and laughs and milestones and celebrations in front of us. This is going to be _fun._ Halloween costumes and games of dreidel and family Christmases and cartoons and toys. There’s so much to look forward to. And so much love. I love our little family already.”

“I...I do too” Josh said timidly.

“Oh, I know, I know you do,” Donna reassured him, wrapping an arm around him. And she did know. This fear, this worry, this was a part of how Josh loved, how he had learned love. But she wanted more for him. Or more accurately, less. She wanted him to be able to love without the fear. “I do need you for this, but I also want you to be able to enjoy this, and you can’t if you’re worrying all the time.” Josh nodded. “We both need some sleep,” Donna added. “Let’s go.”

Once they had settled into bed she rubbed Josh’s back until the rhythm of his breathing told her he was asleep before drifting off herself.


	10. The Situation Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second-to-last chapter. Thanks to everyone for all your support!

“Hi, Josh,”

“Hello, Stanley,”

“It’s been a while,” Stanley observed, offering a chair. Josh sat.

“Yes it has. That’s a good thing, right?”

“Is it?”

Josh didn’t say anything for several minutes. Eventually Stanley spoke again.

“So you’ve been busy,”

“Well, you know,” Josh dismissed.

“No, you have. Taking a dark horse candidate from obscurity to the Presidency in a single election, losing his running mate and your mentor on Election Day, transitioning in your second White House administration, education reform, getting married, gun control legislation, the escalation of American involvement in the peacekeeping mission, and now fatherhood.”

“I’m not a father yet,” Josh said tersely, resisting the urge to knock on wood.

“Okay, expectant fatherhood,” Stanley allowed. “How are you feeling about all of it?”

“All of it?” Josh questioned. Stanley waited. “Well, I can’t take credit for the election. I had a great candidate and a good team.”

“But you got it all started, to hear the newspapers tell it. There’d be no Matt Santos without you.”

“Maybe this particular election, but make no mistake about it, Matthew Santos was destined for that Office. He is living proof of the promise of the American Dream and the fact that a good man who looks out for all Americans can still get elected and still have an impact in this country.”

“It sounds like you’re proud of what happened.”

“It is a honor to serve in the Santos White House” Josh stated firmly. Stanley waited again.

“Leo...I miss Leo,” Josh admitted, staring down at his hands. “It still feels like it should be his office. But the administration is working well together. We’ve had productive relationships with Congress, passed major pieces of legislation that have helped millions of Americans. Children are getting better educations and we firmly believe this will be reflected when the next round of international testing…”

“Josh,” Stanley held up a hand. “This isn’t a press release. Just tell me how you feel. How about your family? Or do you have an Official Statement on that too?”

“No,” Josh said, clearly miffed. He thought for a moment before continuing. “Donna...I’m lucky. We’re really lucky. It was a… strange road, but we’re happy. Or, I guess I thought we were.”

“Oh?”

“She called you, you know what she has to say.”

“Actually I don’t. She spoke to my secretary and as far as I know there was no message, she just made an appointment.”

“She’s...I had a bad dream and apparently she thinks I’m too nervous to be a father.”

“Is that what she said?”

“Well, no. But it’s what she meant.”

“When was this dream, Josh? What happened in it?”

“I mean it’s not like, I’m, you know catatonic or something, it’s just… I mean aren’t all expectant parents nervous? Donna’s got no fear whatsoever and she thinks my reaction is unnatural-”

“Josh, you didn’t answer the question.”

“What was it again?”

“What was the dream about?”

“I don’t...remember the whole thing. It was a nightmare, you know, I get them from time to time since… isn’t that supposed to be a, a thing, with, you know, what I have?”

“Many people with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder do have nightmares related to their trauma, yes. But generally there is a reason, some kind of trigger for the dream.”

“It’s been a stressful time at work, you know, and there’s been a lot to do to prepare for the baby and--”

“Josh, tell me why we’re really here.”

“Because my wife has no boundaries?”

“Josh,” Stanley leveled him with his gaze. “Why are we here?” There was a silence.

“I’m...scared. I’m so scared, all the time. Am I ever going to stop being this scared?”

“Well, Josh, that depends.”

“On what?”

“On you.” That was not the answer Josh had been expecting at all.

“Me?”

“Yes,” Stanley said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “What exactly are these fears about? How did they start?”

“Um, I guess you know, it started when Donna first told me she was pregnant. I mean, I was happy, first. First I was happy. And I still am. I am happy.”

“Of course you’re happy. You can be both happy and scared at the same time.” Josh gave him a long look before continuing.

“But it just seems like there are so many things to be scared of when it comes to having a kid. There’s well… everything.”

“Are you actually scared of everything? Are you scared you won’t be a good father?”

“Well, I guess not, I mean we went to a class and I can change a diaper and I’ve seen dads with kids and I was a camp counselor, that was a long time ago but I don’t think kids have changed that much. And Donna, will tell me what to do, she knows everything about this. And everyone said you’re a little nervous at first but you learn quickly, you sort of figure it out as you go.”

“Everyone? Did you talk to people about this? About being scared?”

"Yes, actually," Josh said, feeling a little proud of himself for having an answer to this question. "I asked my mom, and Jed Bartlet, and Toby, and the President"

“Did it help?”

“Not really,”

"Why not?"

"They all said basically the same thing: if you're a parent, you'll always be worried a little bit."

"That's all they said?"

"Well, I think my mom said that you get less worried about what you have to do for the kid, and there's a lot of love and joy and Jed said it was the most fun job there is, and President Santos said three hundred million Americans call him Mr. President, but only two people can call him dad and he values that above anything and Toby said it helped teach him that he’s capable of a lot more patience than he thought.”

“And that didn’t help because that’s not really what you’re worried about, is it?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? What makes you feel especially scared?”

“I told, you it’s all the time.”

“Yes, but what is it that makes you feel that way all the time?”

“You don’t just switch it on and off Stanley, I don’t know.”

“What are you so scared of?”

“I told you…”

“Come on, Josh, what are you scared of? What is the worst thing that could happen?” Stanley interrogated

“What’s the… are you kidding?” Josh asked, his voice rising. “They could both die Stanley! Both of them! During the delivery or getting hit by a bus or tomorrow night for no reason! That’s the worst thing!” Josh’s breath was coming in gasps, tears stinging his eyes.

“Ah,” Stanley said, his voice calm and level. “So this isn’t so much about fatherhood. Why do you suppose you’re so worried about this?”

“What do you mean?” Josh asked, incredulous. “I’m worried about my wife and unborn child. There are a lot of risks out there. I love them, I couldn’t possibly bear to lose them.”

“There are a lot of risks, Josh,” Stanley acknowledged. “But most of them are very low. And they are a part of living our everyday lives. None of those are going to go away, you can’t eliminate them. And worrying about them doesn’t change anything. You can’t control everything.”

“I know that,” Josh said, exasperated.

“Do you?”

“Yes, I don’t worry about them on purpose. I don’t decide “Well, I should be preoccupied with concern about this, this, and this.” It just happens.”

“Well, what if you just decided not to?”

“What?”

“You say you don’t consciously choose to worry, and I’m sure that’s the case, but what if you consciously chose not to worry?”

“How?”

“Take a moment and just observe what you’re thinking right now. Not judging your thoughts or giving in to one or another, just taking an inventory.”

“Um, ok…”

“Are any of your thoughts related to fear about Donna and the baby?”

“Yes but I…”

“What did I say? Just inventory. Move on to your other thoughts. What are they?”

“Um, there’s a memo on my desk that I need to read, I need to go to the pharmacy, Donna hates my guts, she could end up with postpartum hemorrhage and die…”

“Ok, there, that one. First of all, stop that train. Or at least slow it down before you reach the worst-case scenario. Got it?”

“Uh, I guess.”

“Now go back to inventorying your thoughts.”

They continued like this for almost twenty minutes. It was exhausting, but it at least gave Josh something to focus on that wasn’t quite so terrifying.

“Ok, now, let’s think about some of those worst-case scenario thoughts. Are they logical?”

“What do you mean?”

“Earlier you mentioned thinking about death from postpartum hemorrhage, so let’s examine that thought. How likely is it that Donna will have serious bleeding?”

“Um, I think one of the website said it was… four percent of cases?”

“Ok, so that’s four out of every 100. Not very likely, right?”

“Well, no, but..”

“Ninety-six times in one hundred, that will not happen.”

“Yes.”

“Ok, and if it does happen, if there is that four percent, is this something that can be treated?”

“Yes,”

“So even if it does happen, that’s not a guarantee of death, right?”

“I guess so,”

“So was that thought you had logical?”

“Well, just because it’s not likely to happen doesn’t mean it can’t.”

“Josh, if you were in the Situation Room, and they told you there was a four percent chance of, say, a battleship being attacked, with no certainty that it would be a fatal hit, what would you tell them to do?”

“I’d tell them to step up radar monitoring, possibly adjust their course to avoid leaving themselves open to attack, maybe send up some aircraft to scout for potential attackers and ready all the sailors at their battle stations.”

“So what is the equivalent of readying the battle stations for Donna and the baby? Do you have a doctor and a hospital to go to?”

“Yes,”

“Presumably the hospital will watch for these things, they know about these risks, right?”

“Yeah,”

“And aside from watching, there’s really nothing you can do until you have confirmation of an attack or a complication, right?”

“Right,”

“So was that thought you had logical?”

“No,”

“Ok, so in addition to trying to identify and put the breaks on the worried thoughts, I want you to assess if they are logical or not.”

Josh did as he was told for ten minutes. It was difficult, but he found thinking about everything in terms of the Situation Room helped In there, he somehow always managed to balance caution and aggression, serenity and anxiety.

Afterwards Stanley asked. “What did Donna actually say was the reason she made this appointment?”

“She said, she said that she couldn’t do this alone and if I was caught up in my thoughts I couldn’t be there for her in the moments she needed me. And I guess she’s right but I can’t always… my brain just does this and sure I can focus during the day but at night I can’t...it’s not like I want to have dreams about her shot and bleeding on the--” Josh stopped himself.

“No, of course you don’t. But did it ever occur to you to share how you were feeling with Donna? Is it possible she might have some of the same fears?”

“No, she’s already thought of everything, she’s already fine with all of her fears and I would just be adding to her burden and--”

“I assume there are lots of things you’re prepared to do for Donna to keep up her strength during the delivery, and afterward.”

“Of course,” Josh said, determined. He owed her at least that much.

“Do you consider that a burden?”

“No, of course not, she’s going to be, you know, actually having the baby, the least I can do is help with whatever she needs.”

“But you assume she wouldn’t do the same for you?”

“That’s different, this isn’t stuff she needs it’s just my being worried about everything…”

“But Josh, she’s right: she needs you. Parenting is much easier with two parents, but only if they are working together. And if she’s got her fears already sorted out, doesn’t that mean she might have some insights to help with yours?”

“I guess…" Josh thought for a moment. "It’s.... when we were fighting yesterday she specifically brought up the, uh, what did she call it… “the possibility that we will outlive our child”. It was like she knew that I was thinking about that…”

“Donna knows you very well.”

“Yeah,”

“What did she say about that possibility?”

“She said, um, she said that it would be awful, but survivable. And that she wouldn’t regret being a family, even if it was only a short time.”

“Was it helpful for you to hear that?”

“I...yes, a little bit? I guess the fact that she said that made it seem like we… you know, we’re together for this.”

“Good.”

Just at that moment, Josh’s phone buzzed. It was Donna. Despite everything he’d worked through in the last hour, his blood ran cold.

 

 


	11. What Were You Expecting?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter of this story.  
> Thank you to everyone who stuck with it until the end.  
> Thank you for the kudos, comments, and reblogs!!  
> Thank you again to everyone who had a hand in this story: basicallylizziebennet, thebreakfastgenie, my other beta readers, and The West Wing tumblr fandom.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey, sweetheart,” Donna’s voice sounded cheery but strained.

“Hey, are you ok? Do you need something? What’s going on?” Josh asked rapid-fire.

“Well, it seems that I’m having contractions. Nothing too serious, and I would remind you that because gestational age calculations are inaccurate, and I am well past what is considered full term, it is entirely safe that this is nine days before my due date. But these contractions do appear to be getting closer together in time, so I was hoping you might be able to come…” Donna abruptly stopped talking and Josh heard her taking slow, deep breaths on the other end of the line. After the longest twenty seconds of his life, she said “Yes, Josh, please, come home,” considerably less composed than she’d been previously.

“Yes, leaving now, we were just finishing up.”

“Obey the speed limit. Stop at red lights.” Donna’s regular voice was back. “I’m fine. This is a good thing. This is what is supposed to happen.”

“Yes, ok, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“I love you.” Josh’s heart skipped a beat. He took a deep breath, and pushed everything that wasn’t love and the location of his car keys out of his mind.

“I love you, too.”

He looked up. "Stanley, that--"

"I heard," Stanley said, smiling. "Go. Just remember: you're in control of your thoughts even if you can't control the world."

 -------------------------------------

It’s hard to say who spent more time focusing on their deep breathing in the next twenty minutes, but by the time Josh arrived home, Donna was very much in labor.

“Ok, we, uh, we should go, right?" Josh said.

"Yes. But I need my bag." Josh turned to get it, but Donna grabbed his arm.

"Don't leave," she gasped, gripping his arm tightly with one hand while she rubbed circles on her belly with the other. Bending her knees slightly she blew her breaths out in a steady, focused manner. Thirty seconds later she looked back at him and smiled. "Ok, ok, it's in the front hall closet. Am I wearing shoes?"

Josh looked down. “Yes. You couldn’t tell?”

“Just a little joke, dear,” Donna smiled. “I'm looking forward to being able to see my feet again.” Josh grabbed the bag and one of his long overcoats, wrapping it around Donna’s shoulders. It was a warm evening, but Donna accepted the gesture without comment.

 ------------------------------------

Josh had no idea how he survived the next six hours. His squeamishness mixed with more than a few bad memories made hospitals uncomfortable on any occasion, but this time it was confounded by the agony of seeing Donna in pain. He held her hand and offered sips of water and back rubs and told her he'd punch himself in the groin if it'd make her feel better, which got him only a weak smile, but it was something. Every two minutes when a terrified thought crossed his mind, he sternly told his brain "Don't think about that. It’s not logical. What do you need to be doing right now?" It was exhausting, and Donna was the one doing all the actual work.

He was in awe of how calm she remained. "You're amazing," he said to her after a particularly difficult contraction. Sweaty and tired she looked up at him and smiled, leaning into his shoulder, and sighing ever so slightly.

When the time came for the actual delivery, he positioned himself right by her head, grasping one of her hands in his, wrapping his other arm across her shoulders, making a point to keep his eyes away from any potential fluid sightings. "Okay," he whispered in her ear, as much for himself as for her "you're almost there."

An hour later they were still "almost there" and Josh was having to argue with his worrying brain almost constantly. He found himself silently begging "Please just let this be over soon, let it be okay."

"Okay, Donna, let's push again with the next contraction" the doctor spoke up from the end of the bed.

"I...I can't. I can't do this, please I...please, please I can’t!" Donna's voice was as exhausted as her body but carried a rising note of desperation.

Josh's heart stopped as seven million possible disasters started racing through his mind, but he slammed on the breaks and looked at Donna.

"Hey," he whispered in her ear. "You're amazing. You're incredible. And you can do this. You're already doing it. I know it's hard; I wish it wasn't. But you can do this, I have not a doubt in my mind. Squeeze my hand, lean on me, I'm right here. You can rest if you need to."

Donna nodded and lay back on his arm, eyes closed and totally still for a moment. Then she sat herself up and gave her whole body over to pushing.

"Good, good, you're doing so good" keeping up a running commentary in her ear kept Josh from succumbing to panic. "That's it, keep breathing, you're incredible." He was so focused on what he was doing that he didn't notice the movement of the doctors and nurses until the doctor said "One more push, Donna." Josh dared a glance down in time to see his daughter enter the world. She let forth a furious cry as soon as the air hit her skin, and Josh felt his breath leave him, in a new and better way than ever before.

He turned to look at Donna who was leaned back, breathing heavy, face full of relief. The doctor placed the baby on top of a blanket on her chest and she instinctively bundled her up in her arms. The baby’s crying slowed, then ceased. Josh wrapped Donna in the tightest possible side hug and reached a hand down to touch the baby's head. She had a thin layer of dark hair and giant blue eyes that were looking all around the room as she wriggled in her blankets.

"Hi, baby," Donna said, tears springing to her eyes.

"Does Dad want to cut the cord?" A nurse asked, somewhere on the periphery of Josh's noticing. He shook his head violently without taking his eyes off his daughter.

"You did it," he said to Donna, lacking anything more eloquent, “She’s here.” She was here, and she was fine and beautiful and Donna was exhausted but radiant, smiling down at the tiny little human that they had created together. The pit in Josh's stomach was gone, suddenly, for the first time in months, overwhelmed by gratitude and awe.

"Thank you," Donna murmured, turning her face upward.

"Just doing my part," Josh replied, leaning down to kiss her. "I love you."

"I love you."

"And I love you, too," Josh said, directing his first words to his daughter.

"You want to hold her?" Donna asked, placing the little girl in Josh's arms without waiting for a reply.

Josh couldn't believe how light she was, and how perfect each tiny fingernail and eyelash was. He sat down on a chair a few steps from the bed. The baby opened her eyes and looked up at him. "Hi, I'm your dad," he began, and then he started to sob, chest heaving, tears falling freely as what felt like years of pent-up emotion escaped. The relief of all his unfounded fears, the promises of overwhelming joy, and the memories of everyone he had loved and lost, all of it came rushing out. The baby stayed quiet, unperturbed by his crying.

Donna watched father and daughter together, wishing she could get out of the bed to comfort Josh, but relieved as she watched him finally let go everything he had been feeling, or trying not to feel.

"Sir, are you alright?" The nurse asked, and Josh nodded, unable to speak. "Well, we just need to weigh and measure this precious little one, and then you can have her right back." She gently removed the baby from Josh's arms and he stood up, feeling empty, still sobbing, wanting to follow her with everything in him, as he felt a new pit of worry open up in his gut. He took a step after them, then stopped, shoulders sagging.

"Josh," Donna said, holding her arms out to him. He was in her arms in a second, glad to have someone to hold on to. "It's okay. It's okay. I'm here. She’s here. We're going to be just fine."

"She's amazing," Josh managed.

"Yes, well, what were you expecting? Half you, half me? Brains, tenacity, practicality, passion, empathy, chutzpah, dimples. She's going to be unstoppable."

Josh finally slowed his crying and chuckled. The nurse came back with the baby swaddled in a fresh blanket, a little hat on her head. "7 pounds, 10 ounces, 20 inches, and very beautiful. Congratulations. Does she have a name yet?"

"Esther Joan Moss-Lyman” Donna said, beaming.

“That’s lovely,” the nurse replied. “It will be a few minutes before we can transfer you to a room to stay in. You might see if you can get her to eat before she falls asleep; being born is hard work.”

Donna pulled down her hospital gown and Josh perched on the edge of the bed. He wrapped one arm around Donna's back and tucked the other under Esther. She began feeding near instantly. "Wow," Donna said.

"She's a natural," Josh smiled. "Like you said, unstoppable." He leaned his head towards Donna’s and they rested against each other, the exhaustion from the day starting to take hold. But neither could take their eyes off their daughter, swallowing hungrily, already so alive and precious.

Josh took a deep breath and exhaled silent thanks to whatever had put Stanley and Matt Santos and Jed Bartlet and Toby and his mother and father and Leo and Donna and now Esther in his life. He couldn't believe his good fortune: that in this moment he could wrap his arms around the two people he loved most in the world, and if he kept his focus right here and now, the love and joy and gratitude was stronger than any fear.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END  
> Thank you again for reading!  
> Any feedback or comments are super appreciated!


End file.
